


Return of the Drabble Monster

by Dolimir



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles, dodecals and ficlets that really don't go with anything else -- Part Deux</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Detente (Clark, Lena Luthor - future fic)

“For a reporter, you’re exhibiting remarkable restraint.” Long elegant fingers methodically rubbed out the dying embers on a barely smoked cigarette.

Relaxing against the torn, red vinyl seat behind him, Clark shrugged. “Badgering you accomplishes nothing. You’ll tell me why when you’re ready.”

Blue eyes, which might have been familiar in a different lifetime, blinked once in silent gratitude.

The diner was empty, except for them. The lights overhead glared so brightly that Clark felt like he was on display. A soft country tune about true love leaving on a bus warbled from an old jukebox in the corner. A waitress, sporting a beehive hairdo fifty years out of style, refilled their coffee and tried to tempt them with pie, but felt the tension reverberating back and forth across the greasy-filmed table and left them in peace, promising to return in a few minutes.

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

“I didn’t figure he did.”

She inhaled nervously, but when she exhaled her game face was in place. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s going to be spending a few days at the mansion in Smallville. I would like for you to spend an afternoon with him.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did. I thought you asked me to spend an afternoon with him.”

Opening a platinum case inlaid with diamonds, she withdrew a cigarette and tapped it briefly against the closed lid, not bothering to respond to his comment. “In return for your time, Luthor Industries is prepared to donate one million dollars to the Four H, a program I believe to be very dear to your heart.”

Clark shook his head. “Ms. Lu--”

“Lena.”

“Lena, it’s never been a question of money. It’s--”

“I know about your shared past, Mr. Kent.” Lighting her cigarette, she took a long drag and released it slowly.

Clark closed his eyes as the smoke wafted across the table and moved past his head. “Then you know it’s not as simple as just knocking on the door and announcing my presence.”

“It’s exactly that simple.”

“Lena, while I appreciate--”

“He’s dying, Mr. Kent.” She stubbed out the second cigarette, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she did so.

“What?”

“Cancer.”

“Surely--”

“Kryptonite poisoning. So, no, there is no cure.”

“I’m sorry, Lena.”

Her blue gaze captured his. “Are you, Mr. Kent?”

“Yes, of course I am. Your father and I may have our differences but I have never wished him harm.”

“Then you should have no problems visiting him.”

“As I told you, it’s not that easy.”

Lena withdrew another cigarette from her case, but made no move to light it. She looked around the diner as if to confirm they were indeed alone. “He doesn’t wear the ring anymore.”

Clark blinked, unsure how to respond to the comment.

“And he’s never kept any kryptonite at the mansion, so you should have no worries on that front.”

“Why, exactly, are you telling me this?”

She stared frankly at him. “So you don’t have to worry about any unpleasantness side effects during your visit, of course.”

“Ms. Luthor--”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Kal-El.”

Clark jerked into an upright position, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull--”

Pulling out her palm pilot, she tapped the screen several times then looked over at him. “Would this Wednesday work for you?”

“Now wait just a minute.”

“Do you have a conflict?” She scanned the next entry, then nodded to herself. “Because Thursday works just as well.”

“Attempting to blackmail me--”

Lena laughed, her tone practically one of delight. “My dear Mr. Kent, if I wanted to blackmail you I wouldn’t have asked you to meet me in the middle of the night in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. I would have simply given you a date and time to meet my father.”

Clark slumped back in his seat, unable to come up with an appropriate response.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for the longest time that the bumbling reporter disguise is pure genius. I’ve heard about hiding in plain sight, but your mastery of that particular skill is amazing.”

“I don’t--” Even to his own ears, the protest sounded weak.

She gave him a patronizing smile and shook her head just the tiniest bit before she leaned back and studied him with a speculative look.

“He loves you, you know. I’ve only just recently accepted the fact that he always has. It’s the only logical reason I can come up with to explain why you’re still intact.” Idly, she tapped her cigarette on the table.

“Ms. Luth...Lena. I don’t know what your father has told you, but--”

“Oh, he’s told me nothing. It’s not that you’re taboo, but he prefers not to speak about you so I don’t press the subject.”

“You seem to think--”

Placing the cigarette on the table top, Lena leaned forward slightly. “Mr. Kent, may I call you Clark?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” She graced him with a smile and a nod. “While my father loves you, Clark, I do not, but over the years I have come to respect his feelings for you. I’m not here to talk about ‘should haves’ or ‘could haves’ or ‘might have beens’ because as far as I’m concerned it’s all moot. Both of you are stubborn, neither one of you were open to reconciliation. I understand that. But the time has come to put all that behind you and to make peace.”

“I don’t even know if peace is possible at this point.”

“Oh, I think it is; otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered with arranging this meeting. But even if he’s stubborn, you will bend.”

“Now see here. I don’t--”

Lena leaned forward and patted his hand. “I’m still talking, Clark.”

He blinked at her but fell silent.

“Not to bore you by repeating myself, but let me reiterate that I do not love you. Be that as it may, I will tell you that I adore my father more than anything else on the planet and would do absolutely anything for him. I would love for you to voluntarily visit him in Smallville. Talk about old times. Reminisce. Find a way to bridge the gap. And in return, my company will give your charity a much needed boost and everyone will go home happy.”

“And if I don’t?”

Her smile took on a predatory gleam. “You’ve gotten lax over the years, Clark. My father has respected your privacy, and because he has you’ve been under the erroneous belief that everyone else intelligent enough to track you down will as well. Let me assure you that is not the case.”

Clark studied her for a long time, during which she neither moved nor flinched from his consideration.

“Wednesday would be fine,” he finally said.

“Excellent.” She pulled out her stylus and made a notation in her palm pilot. Without looking up, she addressed him again. “It’s okay to say it, you know.”

“Say what?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled at him as she dropped her cigarette case and electronic device back into her purse. “Like father like daughter. Everyone thinks it. And I’m honored by the comparison, but there’s one thing you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“When it comes to ruthlessness I take after my grandfather.” Standing, she bent slightly and placed the unsmoked cigarette into the ashtray. “Good evening, Mr. Kent. I’ll inform my father’s staff to expect you on Wednesday.”

Clark waited several minutes before he left. He withdrew a five out of his wallet and dropped it on the table as he stood. Having negotiated and even strong-armed his own share of détentes, he couldn’t say he was happy with Lena’s method. And having spoken with her, he now knew she was a Luthor through and through. But even still, he was hopeful as to the outcome. After all, it was time for peace.


	2. Twinge (Lex, Clark)

It started out as an occasional twinge, a minor annoyance, something easily dismissed and ignored. Given the amount of time he spent on the computer, he naturally assumed the pain was an indication that he might be flirting with carpel tunnel. Other CEOs had assistants to do their research and typing, but he liked having a world of information at his fingertips. A quick Google search showed him several different flexes he could employ to lessen the chances of doing nerve damage to his hands and he soon incorporated them into his daily computer regiment.

The first time he felt true pain in his right hand, he was fairly certain it had to do with the handball game he had played earlier that morning. He really shouldn’t have dived for the ball, but the look on Hope’s face was worth the slight swelling.

To listen to the television news magazines, one would think he was the epitome of grace under pressure. Strong emotions had no place in his boardroom during negotiations as many of the CEOs of companies he had taken over could attest, although he did wonder if his inability to hold onto a pen for more than ten minutes at a time was his body’s subliminal way of telling him to check his blood pressure.

When his doctor told him in a whispered voice that he had cancer, he was at a loss for words for the first time in his adult life. Whoever heard of hand cancer? And even if such a malady existed, it couldn’t possibly affect him. After all, he hadn’t been sick a day in his life since the meteor showers had taken his hair.

After exhaustive tests, they learned that the culprit was the green alien rock that kept Superman at bay.

Given the choice between his hand and being able to conduct his business in peace, he chose his hand and had his bodyguards dispose of all the meteor rock he kept in the penthouse. But his preventative measures were too late. The damage was already done and spreading.

For the first time in nearly a decade, he contemplated his mortality and wondered if the battle for his soul and Metropolis had been worth the casualties. He fell asleep on his balcony while he surveyed his kingdom and wondered why victory suddenly tasted so much like dust.

Feeling a familiar presence standing beside him, he roused from his doze and slowly opened his eyes. “Come to gloat?”

The shadow beside him didn’t answer. Instead, it loomed closer and knelt beside him, gently enclosing his damaged hand in its warmth. After almost two full minutes of silence, a soft, familiar voice answered him. “Let me help.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“It won’t change anything between us.”

“It doesn’t need to.”

“Then why?”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“Explain it to me.”

“Please--”

Lex tried to withdraw his hand, but didn’t have the strength to withdraw it from Clark’s grasp.

Clark sighed softly. “Because we created each other.”

“So?”

“I need you whole.”

“Because there’s no sense of pride in beating the dying?”

“Because there’s no purpose without you in my life.”

“Afraid to rule Metropolis on your own?”

Clark brought Lex’s hand up to his mouth and kissed the pale knuckles. “Yes.”

Lex closed his eyes. “It’ll change everything.”

“All right.”

This time the twinge Lex felt had nothing to do with death and everything to do with hope.


	3. Opening Gambit (Lex)

There is something innately elegant about a chessboard. The clean lines of the playing field compliment the stark beauty of each piece. Even in the chaos of a game in play, there was a aesthetic magnificence that was soothing to observe. Lex owned several boards, ranging from stylish onyx to exquisite granite to his personal favorite – a sterling silver set depicting characters from the Warrior Angel universe.

When he was seventeen, Lex had attained the rank of Grand Master; then, much to his father’s annoyance, never played again on the professional circuit. His father had been fond of saying that life was like a chess match, and although Lex rarely won the life chess match against his father, he did know how to play the game. As he grew older, he occasionally played with business associates, but even that past time fell by the wayside as more and more of his time was spent at the helm of LexCorp. So he was not only surprised to find a board on his balcony, but to find that an opening move had been made as well.

Had the board been displayed in his office or even inside the penthouse, he doubted he would have given it a second look, but his balcony was on the sixtieth floor of his tower, which was legendary for its security.

The who was obvious, but not so much the why.

Lex had closed the chapter on Smallville and its inhabitants nearly a decade before and every nerve in his body buzzed in alarm, cautioning him not to reopen that particular door.

Walking to the bar, he poured himself a brandy, although he never took his eyes off the board.

The initial gambit had all the makings of a Reti Opening. He was surprised that Clark would embrace such a hypermodern strategy of flexible restraint instead of attempting a Sokolsky’s Opening and seeking tactics outside the norm, which seemed to be his normal modus operandi.

Lex leaned against the balcony’s railing and surveyed the city below, trying to put the chessboard out of his mind. But no matter how long he surveyed his kingdom, he couldn’t ignore the siren call behind him.

Why now? After all these years? When he couldn’t get a civil word out of either of Clark’s personas?

So much time had passed.

And yet there wasn’t a day when he didn’t remember the boy the man had once been.

They had both made mistakes; hurtful, painful, world-rending judgment errors. Yet, he was studying the chessboard with its taunting opening gambit as if none of it mattered.

No apology.

No explanation.

Lex swallowed the last of his drink and moved toward the door that would take him back into the penthouse and his world. However, he stopped before he turned the knob.

What would happen if he played and lost?

What would happen if he won?

The mere notion of playing the game was laughable, yet he couldn’t stop himself from turning and really studying the board.

An opening, from one king to another. An invitation to an equal. An acknowledgment that nothing in life was ever simple nor quickly resolved.

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, he took a shallow, hesitant breath and released it. In one swift movement, he stepped forward, advanced a pawn with an angry slap, then turned and entered the penthouse, knowing that a response would be awaiting him in the morning.

He still didn’t know what it all meant, but was surprised to find that he was all right with the idea of seeing how matters evolved.


	4. First Kill (Lex)

The uneven ground beneath his feet made it extremely difficult to achieve any sort of lengthy gait. He stumbled several times but managed to stay upright, then pushed himself even harder. Failure was not an option. Branches reached out and tore at the sleeves of his jacket as if Mother Nature were trying to stop him from his quest.

When he arrived on the scene, Clark was writhing in pain. Nixon was standing over Jonathan, poised for the killing blow.

He reacted without thought. Better to have the blood of a sinner on his hands than that of a saint.


	5. What Are Allowances For Anyway (Future Clex Children)

“Well?” asked nine-year-old Sarah the moment her brother walked into the room.

Sixteen-year-old Connor ruefully shrugged his shoulders. “Dad said he admired our pluck, but he refused to fund our efforts. He said we should pool our resources, but that we weren’t allowed to touch our college funds.”

Sarah sighed dramatically. “Even pooling our resources, we’ll be about one point three million short of our goal.”

“I know.”

Jon and Thomas, the thirteen-year-old twins, bound into the room and jumped on the bed beside Sarah.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Papa says we can't watch the Fortune Five Hundred channel anymore.” Jon rolled his eyes. He hadn’t really expected anything different.

Thomas looked back and forth between Sarah and Connor. “So what are we going to do?”

Connor pushed himself off the wall. “We’re going to go ahead and stage the takeover. Fox News gives good journalists bad names and I for one won’t put up with it anymore.”

“After all,” Sarah added with a knowing smile, “Papa and Daddy are always saying we should use our resources and powers for good.”


	6. Red and Green Don't Go Together (Clex, West Babies)

“What in God’s name did you feed them?” Clark held Slyvia West as far away from his body as he could as he walked toward the master bathroom.

Lex looked pained as he tried to keep his breaths shallow. “Chloe said they were on solids now, but the baby food she provided was disgusting. I’m shocked that the government hasn’t closed Gerbers down yet. There's no way I was going to feed that gelatinous poison to my nieces.”

“Again, I ask, what did you give them?”

“Don't be that way, Clark. All I did was have Cook steam and puree some broccoli.” He smiled at the ten-month-old redhead in his hands. “You liked it, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Broccoli?”

“Yeah, well, live and learn.”

"Broccoli?" Clark repeated incredulously.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I admire your superspeed?"

"You are *so* going to owe me for this."


	7. Liar, Liar (Lois..on Clex)

Clark Kent was a liar and not even a particularly good one.

Lois leaned back against the marble column and scanned the crowd, which seemed to be deliriously happy over the fact that Luthor provided open bars at his charity events.

 _Yes, he was running a plant in Smallville while I was in high school. But, come on, Lois, you don’t really think we ran in the same social circles, do you?_

Okay, so he hadn’t technically lied, but who would have guessed that he was so good at misdirection.

Not only did they know each other, but she was willing to lay odds that they were more than just friends. Lois observed that no matter where Clark was in the room that Luthor knew exactly where he was. His eyes would flick up as if reassuring himself of Kent’s presence then would dive back into his conversation.

Not only that, Luthor’s bodyguard, the dark haired one, had whispered several things to Clark during the course of the evening, making him stifle a laugh. If she were to make a guess, she'd say they were making fun of the people at the party.

How in the world were they able to keep their relationship a secret? Lois grinned in anticipation. Sometimes she really liked being a reporter.


	8. Not Stalking (Clark)

It wasn’t stalking.

It wasn’t.

Superheroes didn’t stalk. They merely followed behind to see if their assistance was needed, to provide help in case of emergencies. And the entire world knew that Lex attracted trouble like bimbos to expensive cars, right?

So, not stalking.

He was merely taking a proactive stance.

Clark shook his head as he floated above the highway, trailing Luthor’s car from a half mile in the air. His excuse sounded lame even to his own ears.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, perhaps, but not love. Ever since he interviewed the scientist at Cadmus Labs, he hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. His mother said he looked green and worried that he might be coming down with something. He didn’t bother to remind her that he was incapable of getting sick. Unless it was heartsick.

God, he had it bad.

And he didn’t have the first clue what to do about his situation.

But one thing he knew for certain…he wasn’t stalking.


	9. A Little Rain (Clex)

“Let’s go outside.”

Lex looked up from his report and gave Clark an incredulous look. “In case it escaped your attention on your drive over here, Clark, it’s raining outside.”

“I know.”

“So what possible reason could you have for wanting to go out?”

Clark gave him a hopeful expression, although his voice was more of a question than a statement. “It’ll be fun?”

“Thanks. I think I’ll pass.”

Before Lex could turn back to his report, Clark was standing beside his chair. “Please.”

He knew he could use the excuse that he had work to do, but there was something in Clark’s expression that made him stay his rebuke. As if sensing Lex’s concession, Clark took Lex’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “Take off your shoes.”

Lex toed off his expensive leather shoes and let Clark pull him to the side door. Before he opened it, Clark turned toward him. “You’re not going to melt, you know?”

“Says you.”

Without another word, the teen plunged them into the storm and gave a carefree shout. Turning, Clark graced him with a smile so bright that Lex briefly wondered if the sun had finally decided to make an appearance. The teen’s happiness was so infectious he couldn’t maintain his stolid aura any longer. Holding his arms out from his sides, Lex rested his head on his shoulders and slowly spun in a circle, feeling his worries melt away as the rain caress his face. He chuckled and shook his head in wonder at how carefree he was feeling. When he raised his head, his eyes immediately sought Clark’s.

He was surprised to find the teen standing just a few millimeters in front of him. Before he could say anything, Clark leaned forward. Without thought, Lex met him halfway. Their lips gently brushed against each other’s.

“So, are you having fun yet?” Clark asked in a shy whisper.

Lex grinned at him. “Yes, Clark, I think I finally understand the appeal of playing in the rain.”


	10. And Then Came Spring (Clex)

Winter sucked.

While it was true he didn’t feel the biting arctic cold his friends complained about, he hated the fact that the sky was almost always overcast. The lack of light made him feel lethargic and his mom teased him about being solar powered. If that weren’t enough, Lex had been on a month-long business trip, covering such exotic locales as Japan, Europe and Egypt.

After snapping at his mom one too many times, he found himself banished to the barn. He opened up the loft door and was surprised to find the sun finally peeking out from behind the clouds. He shoved the couch in front of the opening and spent several moments just glorying in its warmth.

It wasn’t until a hand pressed against his chest that he realized he had fallen asleep. He jolted awake, only to find Lex sitting on the couch beside him.

“I called your name before I came up here but you were dead to the world,” Lex explained.

Clark had the vague notion that he should sit up, but he couldn’t do so without knocking Lex to the floor, nor did Lex look like he had any intention of moving soon.

“When did you get back?”

“This morning. Your mother tells me I’m taking my life in my hands by coming out here to talk to you.”

Clark could feel the blush redden his cheeks. “I’ve been a little out of sorts lately.”

“Any particular reason?”

While the question was asked casually, Clark could see the need in Lex’s eyes. He nodded slowly.

“Is there something I can do to fix the problem?”

Clark nodded again.

“You know I’d do anything to--”

Before he could go any further, Clark cut him off by pulling Lex’s shirt toward him and kissing him.

“Better?” Lex asked with quiet amusement when they parted.

Clark shook his head.

“As your friend, I’m here for as long as you need me.”

Clark smiled as Lex leaned down again. He really did love Spring.


	11. He's So Shy (Clark, Lex - Out of Character Challenge)

“Did you like the truck?”

Clark looked at the enigmatic Luthor heir sitting behind the piano. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it.”

The last note rang for a long moment then drifted into silence. “The Luthor curse strikes again.”

“Excuse me?”

Lex shook his head. “You can leave the keys with security on the way out. Do you need a ride home?”

Instead of leaving, Clark walked around the piano and sat on the bench beside Lex. “I can’t accept the truck, but I’d still like to be your friend.”

A shy smile graced Lex’s face. “Really?”

“Really.”


	12. Yeah, Right (Out of Character Chloe)

“Chloe, aren’t you the least bit interested that Collin Adams can jump over fifteen feet in the air from a complete standstill?” Lana turned her digital camera to show a picture of the senior jumping onto the roof of the school.

Chloe looked up from buffing her nails. “So what? He’s just the latest freakazoid of the week. What I really need is an inside scoop of who’s going to be prom queen this year. Can you get Tiffany to stop by after her third period?”

“But this is news.”

“Lana, get real. This is a just high school paper.”


	13. A Union of Fools (Clex)

Love had no place in the lives of powerful men. At least that was what his father had always espoused. Love made men weak, left them vulnerable, took their mind off the ball. And is some ways, Lex supposed his father was right. But he and Clark had walked through hell together, had fought to earn each other’s trust in the wake of the world telling each of them to run as fast as they could in the other direction. As he looked over at the sleeping figure beside him, Lex was looking forward to an eternity of emotional weakness.


	14. The Storm (Clex)

Lex started awake from his chaise on the balcony as he heard the lead wall of rain race toward his position. Groggily, he stood, intent on going inside, but hesitated as he looked at the city below him. From his aerie near the top of LexCorp Tower he couldn’t hear the startled oaths from below or the laughter of those who realized they were too wet to rant, and for a moment he wished he could.

A droplet of water, angled just right, blew under the roof of the balcony and stained his silk shirt just above his heart. Without thought, he touched the spot, shivering as a cool wind blew past him. Shaking his head with amusement, he stepped toward the sliding glass door, but couldn’t seem to make himself go inside.

Turning back toward the city, he understood why when he saw the figure floating just beyond the balcony. The wind whipped Clark’s cape around his body, alternately hugging his muscled frame and billowing out behind him.

Neither of them spoke, nor did either of them turn away. Clark’s hair hung in his eyes as rivulets of water poured down his face. Lex surprised himself when his hand lifted unconsciously, but he forced it back down.

So many years had passed between them. So many words unsaid. So many truths untold. Yet Clark’s eyes weren’t apologizing or begging for forgiveness. They simply burned with the same need, the same want that Lex felt growing within him.

Both of them were powerful men; neither one of them were used to compromise or being the first to blink, which left them at this silent standstill. Lex wondered briefly if giving in to what they both wanted would make him the weaker man or the stronger. He knew giving into their joint desire wouldn’t change anything between them and yet it would.

He swallowed once then blinked as Clark alight on the Italian tile. Within a blink of an eye the space between them was nonexistent and he was forced to roll his head back to maintain eye contact.

One of Clark’s large hands wrapped gently around Lex’s throat then slid over his collarbone before it rested momentarily over Lex’s heart. Clark smiled tauntingly at him as he lightly scratched down the length of Lex’s chest until he cupped Lex’s ever hardening need. A gasp escaped Lex and Clark took the opportunity to use his tongue to breach Lex’s mouth, devouring his mouth like it held the promise of eternal life. Lex was determined not to be denied the same ambrosia and ate just as hungrily.

Bringing his hands up and fisted them in Clark’s hair, Lex bit at Clark’s lips and chin, the knowledge that he couldn’t hurt the superhero making him reckless in his claiming. Clark moaned and Lex pulled himself back, watching Clark who was watching him slowly lick his lips.

The wind changed directions and the rain pelted against them. Lex gasped again as Clark ripped his shirt and shoved him back against the plate glass. He tightened his grip in Clark’s hair, not sure if he was trying to prevent the exploration of his chest or direct it.

Clark straightened and lifted Lex’s leg by the knee. The superhero’s gaze never left Lex’s as he surged against him again and again, daring Lex to tell him to stop. Blinking his eyes against the rain, Lex bared his teeth, insolently challenging Clark to take it to the next level.

The feral smile Clark gifted him with gave Lex a moment’s pause, but before he could speak Clark was sliding down his body, his talented hands making short work of Lex’s pants. Clark took a moment to enjoy his prize, inhaling Lex. His tongue darted out playfully, ghosting Lex’s ache but not yet tasting him. Lex growled and Clark chuckled softly, then slowly licked the underside of Lex’s length until he got to the tip. Without warning he sucked Lex all the way into his mouth and for a moment, both were still. Lex could feel Clark’s fingers digging into the back of his legs, his thumbs teasing the inside of Lex’s thighs and the sensation made it impossible not to move. Lex shuddered and surged forward.

Clark’s eyes closed in bliss as Lex fell back then pumped forward again. Clark’s tongue danced just underneath the head even as one hand teased the juncture of his legs. A groan escaped Lex and he thrust harder and harder, seeking relief. Humming, Clark encouraged him and Lex’s release made him feel like he was shattering into a million pieces. He stumbled back, his shoulders hitting the glass behind him with a jarring thud, but Clark had yet to let go of his hips.

Taking a deep breath and letting it go slowly, Lex rested one hand on Clark’s shoulder to steady himself. A desire he had never known welled up within him and he pulled Clark into a standing position by his cape until they were standing facing each other.

Clark tried to take a step back, but Lex refused to let go. Changing tactics, Clark leaned forward again to brush his lips over Lex’s, but Lex placed his fingers over Clark’s lips and shook his head.

So much had been left unsaid between them. So many truths untold. Sex wouldn’t change things between them, but it opened the door, and he was a brave enough man to walk through it. Tugging Clark toward the balcony door, he lead him through the penthouse toward his room for deeper discussion.


	15. Spring Break (Clark, Lex)

Clark accepted his drink from the beach boy, then looked over at his companion lounging in the chaise beside him. “You know, my parents think I’m in Padre.”

Lex lowered his sunglasses to the end of his nose. “They think you’re relaxing on a beach and praying that you’re not dying from alcohol poisoning.” He waved at the ocean in front of them. “Besides you’re on a beach. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“But we’re on a beach in Greece.”

“A beach is a beach, Clark. We’re even in the right hemisphere.”

“But on the wrong continent.”

“Semantics.”


	16. Second Chances (Clark, Lex - Time Loop, Righting Wrongs))

Clark dragged the pale boy from the river and laid him on the riverbank. Pressing his ear to the water-soaked shirt, he listened desperately for a heartbeat, only to find none. He frantically tried to remember his CPR training as he searched for the boy’s sternum and interlaced his fingers together.

“Please don’t die.”

Water spewed from the boy’s mouth and he blinked open pain filled eyes. “I thought I hit you.”

Clark glanced toward the sky and saw the man he was to become hovering in the distance. Discarding everything his parents had taught him, he whispered, “You did.”


	17. ER (Clark, Lex - Other TV Shows)

“Lex, come meet your intern this rotation.”

Dr. Alexander Luthor, senior surgery resident, turned while shaking his head, convinced he misheard the overly peppy command.

Lana Lang, the hospital’s chief administrative assistant, swallowed hard but stood her ground. “Clark Kent meet Dr. Luthor.”

Lex studied the affable young man standing in front of him. Hell, he looked like he just stepped off the farm. He ignored the boy’s outstretched hand. “I thought we already discussed this.”

“We did. You know as well as I do the Board denied your…request. Now make nice and show Clark how things work around here.”


	18. ST:NG (Clark, Lex, Others - Other TV Shows)

“Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.” The Borg’s communal voice echoed around the bridge before Captain Alexander J. Luthor gave his communication officer, Lt. Sullivan, the signal to terminate the broadcast.

“We’re being scanned, sir,” Ensign Ross reported nervously from Navigation.

“Can you jam the signal?”

“No sir.”

“Lt. Fordman, what’s our current shield status?”

“All forward shields are down by twenty percent, sir.”

“Engines?”

“Still offline, sir.”

Lex stood and moved toward the science station and his closest friend in the galaxy. “Well, Clark, it looks like we’re going to find out if you’re really indestructible or not.”


	19. Quantum Leap (Clark, Lex - Other TV Shows)

“Well?” Clark asked his holographic companion.

Lex frowned as he smacked the side of his palm pilot twice. “The AI says that not only will Mike finish college, but he’ll go on to get his Doctorate as well. He’s going to become the lead engineer for NASA’s Mars probe.”

“How’s the AI doing on the latest set of calculations?”

Lex lowered his link. “I’m sorry, but it’s not ready yet.”

“It’s okay.” Clark smiled weakly. “I miss touching you.”

“Me too,” Lex whispered.

As the familiar lights encircled him, Clark wondered if he was ever going to leap home again.


	20. Playing the Odds (Clex)

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=pixchallenge2.jpg)

 

Lex sat his empty shot glass on the faux wood panel and tossed a thousand dollar chip onto the roulette table, not particularly caring where it landed. He didn’t bother watching the wheel as the ball spun and hopped to a stop. A scantily clad waitress dutifully replaced his drink. Lex handed her a chip, then tossed another one onto the table.

“Bored?” an amused patron beside him asked.

Never taking his eyes off the table in front of him, Lex shrugged, not wanting to encourage a conversation by giving a verbal answer.

“Or just annoying your father?”

Lex smirked. Well, at least the stranger knew who he was. Of course, he was a little hard to miss.

“While the house actively encourages people to piss their money away, we do try to entertain them in the process; not that annoying your father doesn’t have a certain amusement value, but I wonder if we could tempt you with a different sort of gratification.”

Lex finally turned his head to look at the speaker. The man beside him was incredibly handsome in a wholesome, farm boy, sort of way. The dark blue silk shirt he was wearing did nothing to detract from the broadness of his chest or the slimness of his waist. The man’s eyes were a brilliant jeweled green, although every once in a while they gave off the impression of being red.

“Did you have something in mind?” Lex challenged softly.

“I thought maybe you might be interested in playing for something other than money.”

Lex wondered briefly if the kid was a cop, but knew that a solicitation charge would never stick. Since the kid had approached him, it would be a clear case of entrapment. If the kid were a hustler, the upside to a potential blackmail setup was that it would truly annoy his father.

“Do you have something specific mind?”

The boy let his gaze wander appreciatively over Lex’s body. Even though he was dressed in a casual business suit, Lex felt naked under the boy’s hungry scrutiny.

“Yes.” The word was breathed with such promise that Lex felt his cheeks flush.

Lex raised an eyebrow in response, not sure if he was capable of speaking without his voice breaking.

“One spin only. Red, we have dinner. Black, I leave you alone.”

“And the aught spots?”

The boy grinned wolfishly as he sidled closer, pressing his groin against the side of Lex’s leg. “Single aught, I’m yours to do with as you please.”

“And double?” Lex whispered.

“You’re mine.”

Lex swallowed, although with nerves or anticipation he couldn’t be sure. “One spin only?”

The returning grin was pure predator. “One spin.”

In answer, Lex held up a thousand dollar chip and deliberately placed it on the red twenty-four. His gaze never left the boy’s face.

The boy’s tongue peeked out of his mouth and slowly licked his top lip as he placed his own chip on the green double aught box, taking care not to break his physical connection with Lex’s leg.

The dealer spun the wheel and it took every ounce of willpower that Lex possessed not to watch the ball’s journey. Instead, he kept his gaze locked onto the face in front of his. The ball seemed to spin for an eternity before it skipped to a stop.

“Double O. Aught. Aught,” the dealer announced in an amused voice.

“Follow me.” The boy didn’t bother to collect his winnings. He just turned and walked into the crowd.

Lex drained the remaining scotch from his glass and obediently followed, appreciating the way the tight jeans framed the young man’s assets. Neither of them spoke as the glass elevator surged upward, but the hum of sexual tension between them was almost audible.

The doors opened to reveal an opulent penthouse, one that rivaled his own room. Lex followed the boy quietly into the bedroom, somewhat surprised to discover it was dark beyond the floor to ceiling picture glass windows.

He had no more stepped foot into the room when he found his mouth covered by the full lips that had been quietly taunting him since he left the table. Warm hands expertly undressed him and guided him to the bed.

Luthers seduced. They were never seduced themselves. They never allowed another to have that sort of power over them. But as Lex felt the silk sheets caress his back and felt the heat of the gaze roving over his body, he came to the conclusion that control was highly over-rated.

There was nothing hesitant in the boy’s movements. His hands moved expertly over him, seeming to know how to drive Lex crazy, seeming to know just how far to push him without actually allowing him to fall over the edge.

Lex’s breath started as cool slick fingers filled him, opening and stretching him. He gripped the sheets and panted as they moved deeper and deeper and couldn’t stop the moan of loss when they withdrew, even though he knew what their absence meant.

The boy braced himself over Lex’s body and stared into his face. Without saying a word, he entered Lex, slowly but steadily. never stopping until he was fully sheathed. Something in the boy’s face changed once he was fully sheathed. He looked vulnerable, almost scared.

Biting his lip, the boy slowly withdrew, then thrust forward, deeply, like he was trying to convey something important. As the boy moved steadily within him, Lex felt a pressure build, something more than pleasure, more than pain, something that felt a lot like home. As his world exploded in release, memories washed over him like a cascading river.

Blinking in surprise, he looked at the face above him. “I know you.”

The boy wrenched a red-stoned ring off his finger and threw it across the room. “Yes, you do.”

“You’re someone I love.”

The boy nodded once.

Lex reached up and caressed the beloved tear-streaked face above him. “I always knew you were special, Clark.”


	21. Purple (Clex)

Purple was a royal color. Or at least that’s what Mrs. Henderson, Clark’s seventh grade art teacher, had taught him. It was a color that signified authority and rank.

Clark could picture Lionel pontificating at length about the power of subliminal presentation to the small, sickly child he suspected Lex had been.

In high school, Clark came to associate purple with weariness and the color of the skin under Lex’s eyes.

But as Lex writhed beneath him, begging for Clark’s touch, Clark knew that purple really meant possession, and smiled as he sucked yet another mark on Lex’s pale neck.


	22. Memories of Home (Clark, Martha)

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=picturechallenge1.jpg)

The first place Clark could remember, without assistance from the AI, was the kitchen at the Kent farm. For the rest of his life he would have a warm feeling for kitchens and would always associate the sounds and smells with comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how strong or powerful he became, he never forgot that his first memories of Earth began in a humble kitchen.

He could remember countless hours spent sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter -- elbows on his knees and chin in his palms -- watching his mother as she moved gracefully about her routine. She would sing to him while she cooked or he would diligently recite his alphabet and mathematic tables to her. When he got too big for the counter, he would sit on the floor against the cabinets and read to her from his books, often stopping to ask questions regarding pronunciation or character motivation. Most of the time they’d just discuss whatever interested them on that particular day whether it be why zebras have stripes or what motivated Hemmingway. On other lazier days, he would simply close his eyes and soak up the sun’s rays as they danced through the window panes. Later he would come to understand the significance of such a simple act, but at the time he just enjoyed the warm caress while he listened to his mother’s happy hum.

It always fascinated him that no matter how busy she appeared to be, she always knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. In the winter time, when he was bored, Clark would wait until she appeared to be lost in thought, then would run to the door, intent on throwing himself into a snow bank. She always caught him, making him wonder if maybe she had a bit of superspeed herself. She would wrap her arms around his waist and swing him in a big circle, then rub her cheek softly against his and playfully buss a kiss to his neck until he squealed with laughter. Once he was assured of his place in her universe, she would set him on the counter and they’d play word association games while she whipped up her various batters.

The kitchen worktable was always the hub of the controlled chaos. It was often filled to capacity with cookies, pies, muffins and cakes in various stages of completion. He never quite knew when the tradition started, but the unspoken rule of the house was that it was his responsibility to lick all the bowls and spoons – a task he took to heart as only a child can do. As a teenager he would ignore the playful teasing of his friends and employed his best puppy dog impression, a look he knew his mother could never refuse, in order to be given the same privilege, although he was often forced to share with his friends despite their initial grumblings of his being an overgrown kid.

As a child, he was convinced that his mother was simply the most beautiful woman in the world; and while he learned to appreciate other types of beauty, this fundamental belief never changed. Her eyes always seemed to spark with laughter and he loved to make her laugh. Her simplest frowns had the power to rip his soul worse than any piece of kryptonite had ever done, and he would move heaven and earth not to see a frown appear on her face.

There was a magic about her. She always knew the right thing to say to brighten his day or make him think. Who else could make a load of bed sheets drying on the clothesline seem like a magical maze? Or make the barn loft into a palatial hideout?

He wasn’t the only one who noticed her power. All of his friends levitated to her as well. A kind word from her was enough to make Pete glow for the rest of the day or make Chloe smile so hard as to rival the sun in its intensity. Even Lex, the scourge of Metropolis, had been known to blush in Martha Kent’s presence and give her a shy, approval-seeking smile.

In the spring, he spent hours by her side as they plant seedlings in the garden. He convinced himself later in life that he learned to be gentle simply by watching her carefully deposit the little plants into the ground. She showed him how deep to make the holes and how far apart to place the plants. While he could have supersped through the process, there was something fascinating about being responsible for making something grow. He was always fascinated by the timid little seedlings that would poke through the turned soil and seek the sun’s light.

Clark understood that the farm had been in his father’s family for three generations, four if he included himself, but he didn’t have a tie to the soil like his father did. And he knew that once his mother was gone, the farm would be nothing more than land.

He landed at the back of the house and wasn’t surprised when his mother’s face appeared behind the screen door.

“Talk about timing.” Her smile was warm and loving and she looked for all the world like she had been expecting him. She pushed open the screen and waved him to come inside. “I was just whipping up some frosting for the cake I was making for the church social. I think you can probably hear the bowl call your name.”

Clark noticed the lines which crinkled around her eyes and the grey which streaked her hair and knew he had never seen a more beautiful woman than the one staring at him with eyes that were starting to tinge with worry.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Laughing joyful, he wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her into the kitchen. “Just happy to be home, mom. Just happy to be home.”


	23. I Can Be Your Hero, Baby (Lana/Pete, Clark)

“Will you stop fidgeting? I can’t get your tie right if you keep squirming.”

Pete Ross clenched his eyes as tightly as his fists and managed to stay still for all of ten seconds. Releasing his breath in a explosive puff, he looked up at his friend who was grinning at him like a loon.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” Clark Kent smiled hugely at him. “Who knew that superspeed worked with bowties as well?”

“Thanks, man.”

“Hey, no problem. What’s a best man for?”

Pete bounced on his toes for several moments then threw himself whole-heartedly into pacing again.

“Will you calm down?” Clark asked in a teasing tone. “Why are you so nervous? Isn’t this the day you’ve been dreaming about for over a year now?”

Pete nodded, but kept walking. “She’s going to change her mind. I just know it.”

Pete turned and ran smack into the solid chest of his best friend.

Clark held him in place by putting both of his hands on Pete’s shoulders. “She’s not going to change her mind, Pete. Lana loves you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a good man and you make her laugh.”

Pete’s sudden smile wavered. “But why me? Why not you?”

Clark released his shoulders. “We both know why not me.”

“She’d take you back in a second if you’d let her,” Pete said miserably.

Clark shook his head, reached forward to cup Pete’s cheek gently, then slapped it hard enough to make it sting. “You’re an idiot. Lana and I were over years ago.”

Pete looked at him with skepticism in his eyes.

“Yes,” Clark told him with a reluctant sigh, “I loved her and I always will, but not in the way you think. She will always hold a special place in my heart. I mean, she was my first love. But that’s it. You know that, Pete. Or at least I thought you did.”

Pete dropped his chin to his chest. “I do.”

“Maybe I...maybe I should go,” Clark said softly. “You--”

Before he could say another word, Pete grabbed him by the elbow. “Clark. Don’t. I’m sorry. It’s just that every single one of my demons is jumping out of the woodwork and pummeling me. Please. Stay. I just...I just...”

Clark turned back to face him and leaned against the door. “So tell me when you first knew it was love.”

Pete stopped, his smile returning. “I can’t tell you an exact day. It happened gradually. I used to stop by the Talon every time I came home for a visit. Smallville just wasn’t the same without you and Chloe, man. Hell, I was even missing Luthor at that point.” Pete huffed with amusement. “It was just good to see a familiar face, you know?”

Clark nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Pete’s eyes grew distant as he sank into his memories. “She was having trouble with her projector one night and I offered to help.”

“Because you’re such an electronic whiz and all,” Clark teased.

Pete flashed him a silly grin. “Somehow, between the two of us, we got it working again.” Absently, Pete’s fingers started to trace the patterns on the stained glass window of their little waiting room. “The next evening, I stopped by again. Just to make sure everything was okay, you know?”

Clark nodded.

“We started talking and it felt…good. You know? Before I knew it, I was finding all sorts of reasons to come home for the weekend. As the months passed, I started stopping off at the Talon before I even made it home. There was just something about the way her face lit up when she saw me...” Pete stopped and blushed.

“Go on,” Clark said, encouragingly.

“I guessed I figured it out right before my senior year. My car was packed. I had said good-bye to my folks. I stopped by the Talon to say good-bye…”

“And?” Clark asked.

“I couldn’t make myself leave her. I mean, I tried, right? It got to be a joke. I’d say good-bye, but my feet wouldn’t move. I just stood there like an idiot. She was busting my chop and we were both giggling like idiots when she just leaned forward and kissed me. I thought the gates of heaven had opened.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I was. I mean, on campus I was still holding myself out to be a ladies’ man, chasing girls and being all smooth. Lana was...Lana was just *Lana*, you know? She was the one person I could be myself with, good, bad and ugly. I never tried to impress her because she was like my best friend, and who in the hell falls in love with their best friend?”

“Just the luckiest of souls,” Clark said softly, a hint of wistfulness in his tone.

“Tell me about it.” Pete turned to face Clark, knowing every emotion he was feeling was on his face, but needing one final reassurance.

Before he could speak, Clark raised his hand. “My life is so much more complicated now than when I lived in Smallville. I was trying to do the right thing back then, but in spite of all my best efforts, I was never *there* for the people who were important to me.” He rolled his head back onto his shoulders and stared at the ceiling. “And now, it’s a hundred times worse.”

“Cl--”

Clark shook his head. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Pete. I chose this life.” He looked at Pete, his expression growing even more sober. “Besides, someone has to keep Lex in check, and who better than the person responsible for creating him.”

“You didn’t make Lex choose the dark path, Clark.”

“I didn’t save him when I had the chance, and I had so many chances.” Clark straightened and placed himself in front of Pete. “For all the mistakes I’ve made, I’ve also done a lot of good. But know this, Pete; leaving Lana wasn’t a mistake on my part. As much as I care for her, my world is not a safe place. She would always come in second or third or tenth.”

Clark took a deep breath, then ran a hand absently through his hair. “Not to sound like a braggart, but what I do is important. It’s more important than her, it’s more important than any one person could ever be. And Lana deserves better than that. She deserves to have a best friend, a man who can’t bear the thought of leaving her, a man who can be who he truly is around her. That man isn’t me, my friend. It’s you. And I couldn’t be happier.”

Pete bit his lip and nodded, tears stinging his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No, thank you for allowing me to be a part of this.”

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be standing here,” Pete confided quietly.

A knock on the door startled them both.

Clark patted him on the back. “It’s time.”

“Do you have the ring?”

Clark’s eyes grew huge. “Ring? What ring?”

“What do you mean ‘what ring’?” Pete all but shrieked.

“Gotcha.” Clark snickered.

“Man, it’s a good thing you’re invulnerable.”

“Oh, come on, like you didn’t have that coming.”

“Yeah, I suppose I did.”

Clark straightened Pete’s tie one more time, picked the lint off his tuxedo and guided him from the room. “Come, my friend, the bride awaits.”

They stood at the front of the church and waited for the music which would announce the bride’s arrival. After what seemed like an eternity, the organ finally began to play.

Pete turned and watched as Mr. Sullivan escorted Lana down the aisle. Lana’s gaze locked with his and never wavered. With each step she took toward him, his heart grew in size until he was sure everyone in the church could hear his heart sing.

Clark was right. Lana deserved someone who loved her for who she was, who wouldn’t leave her alone to face her own demons while he fought bigger ones. She deserved someone who would be her friend, who would adore her and who would make her the center of his universe. And by all that was good in the world, he vowed to be that man.

He might not be a super man, but he would be her hero.


	24. Soul Music: (The Eleventh Day of Christmas: Eleven Pipers Piping) (Lex, Hudson)

_When I hear music, I fear no danger.  
I am invulnerable. I see no foe.  
I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest._  
\-- Henry David Thoreau

 

Even though the rift between her and Lex had shrunk considerably over the past two years, Hudson couldn’t help but wonder if she had completely lost her mind. While their relationship was still strained, she had to admit that their last encounter had been downright pleasant, what with them working together to take down the latest bad to arrive in Metropolis.

There had been a moment before the police had arrived on the scene to take the wannabe criminal away when Lex had looked at her with such longing that her breath had actually caught in her chest. When she had finally gathered her wits enough to talk to him, he was already in his professional mode and dealing with the police and press in his normally efficient manner.

A few days later, an electronic greeting card had shown up in her email; however, it wasn’t the normal Hallmark or Blue Mountain variety, no it was a card that had been specifically designed for her. It had been extremely funny and charming and made references to things only she and Lex would understand.

Against her better judgment, she responded to the card with a simple thank you. Lex apparently took the response as an opening, and started sending her a couple of emails a day as if they were old friends who joked back and forth while getting through the grind of their jobs. To her surprise, she found herself looking forward to his email with an almost giddy anticipation, which only served to remind her how much she missed his friendship.

The first day an email wasn’t waiting for her when she logged in at work, she became fretful. After debating with herself for nearly an hour, she sent him a short inquiry email at ten o’clock, then immediately kicked herself for having done so. At eleven, she was back to worrying and contemplating doing a flyby of the Tower on her lunch hour.

At eleven forty-five she finally received a response. Lex apologized profusely, saying he had been stuck in a meeting with oversea investors since dawn.

Hudson had felt worse than stupid. Of course, she wasn’t on his mind all the time. They were still technically enemies, sworn nemeses. She vowed not to respond to any more email. After all, she was simply setting herself up for heartbreak.

The next day she found a large potted plant on her desk with a beautiful, but fake, bird in the branches of the miniature tree.

“It’s a partridge in a pear tree,” Louis told her with a smirk.

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Twelve days of Christmas and all. Someone’s being clever.”

Hudson looked for a card, but couldn’t find one. Although in her heart of hearts, she knew who had sent it.

The next day she had received two birds made out of solid Dove chocolate. She immediately handed one to Louis in exchange for his silence.

The next two days had her coping with more feathers than there had been chickens on the farm. Okay, so that wasn’t quite true, but she was growing more than a tad annoyed. Thankfully, the local zoo was more than happy to take the rare birds off her hands. Again, no card had been attached to either gift, but she had no doubt Lex was behind it. After all, who else did she know that could afford such expensive fowl?

Her writing partner was gleefully anticipating day five. Hudson tried to affect boredom, but had to admit she was a little curious to see what the day would bring.

The five lollipop pacifier rings had disappointed Louis, but Hudson thought they were perfect. Plus she had the bonus of observing Perry, chin resting on his hand, absently sucking his candy. Jimmy had managed to get a half dozen pictures which they planned on posting around the office the next time the Chief’s birthday rolled around.

Hudson could admit that she was more than a little nervous about facing two more bird days, but Lex apparently restrained himself from sending anymore mobile fowl. Day six heralded the arrival of six Tiffany eggs.

Six. Tiffany. Eggs.

All the noise in the newsroom had ceased when Kat, from the society page, had shrieked upon spying the jeweled eggs. Jonathan Kent’s upbringing weighed heavily upon Hudson and she was tempted to return them.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Kat snapped as she lovingly ran a hand over one of the eggs she had clutched possessively against her chest. “You don’t even know for sure that Luthor is the one sending them to you. Besides, the messenger has already left.”

Hudson wanted to argue that there was no one in Metropolis who could even begin to waste money on one Tiffany egg, let alone give away six of them, but she let the argument go for the chance to watch Kat geek out in joy.

The seventh day brought seven exquisite crystal swans containers filled with the most expensive of candies. Everyone on the floor was nice to her long enough to snatch a piece or two.

“I’m thinking maids a-milking ought to be a blast,” Louis said mischievously, planting himself on the corner of Hudson’s desk as soon as Hudson came back from an early lunch on the eighth day.

“Oh, God, you don’t think--”

Louis cackled evilly.

Hudson stuck her tongue out at him. “You know, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

When the elevator dinged a few moments later, Hudson stiffened in anticipation.

Louis’ snicker told her everything she needed to know.

Turning slowly to face the elevator, she found eight women dressed in traditional Dutch costumes handing out pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.

One of the maids gave Hudson a pint of white chocolate and raspberry ice cream and Louis a pint of Jamocha Fudge.

Louis practically tore the lid off his carton as the maid sashayed her way back to the elevator. “If you ever decide you don’t want Luthor, just let me know. I’m seriously considering handing in my het union card and going gay. Because, you know, as a friend, I’m willing to take the…er…bullet for you.”

“Oh, shut up and eat your ice cream,” Hudson snapped, vowing to fry Louis’ palm pilot if he so much as got within a hundred feet of Lex.

Day nine made her incredibly popular with the male population of the office as nine Hooter girls danced around the bullpen at lunchtime serving hot wings. Face aflame with embarrassment, Hudson decided that afternoon would be a really good time to track down some leads on her latest investigative piece.

Being the coward she always suspected she was at heart, she managed to avoid the office the next day until one o’clock.

“So, how bad was it?” she asked Kat and Louis who were whispering near her desk when she arrived.

“It hasn’t happened yet,” Kat informed her.

“But it always happens around noon,” she protested.

“They must have hit a snag or something,” Louis said, unsympathetically.

Hudson flopped down into her chair and pounded her head against her desktop.

Louis leaned over and put his hand between Hudson’s forehead and the desk. “We’re betting on Chippendale dancers for ten lords a-leaping.”

Hudson had barked with laughter. “Oh, come on, you don’t seriously think--”

But before she could finish her outraged comment, the elevator dinged opened and ten incredibly buff men danced into the newsroom.

“Oh my God, I love Lex Luthor.” Kat dumped her purse onto Hudson’s desk and frantically searched for dollar bills.

The music echoing around the room was hard and rhythmic and the men ground their hips against any woman who stood in their path for more than two seconds.

Perry opened his door to find out what the ruckus was all about, saw the half naked men and slammed his door shut, apparently deciding that discretion was the better part of valor.

All ten men moved toward Hudson’s desk with purpose.

“Oh God. Oh God,” Hudson muttered under her breath.

Kat, however, was having no problem getting into the spirit of things.

One particularly buffed and well-oiled, blue eyed man, stopped in front of Hudson and turned her chair to face him. Hudson squeezed her eyes shut, terrified beyond belief that she was going to set the poor man’s crotch on fire.

Louis hooted with laughter. “HC, take the card.”

“Card?” Hudson had opened her eyes long enough to see an envelope sticking out of the man’s incredibly low-cut waistband. Touching it like she was afraid she was about to be electrocuted, she retrieved the envelope slowly so as not to give the man a paper cut on his unmentionables.

She swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.

As if by some unspoken cue, the dancing men ground their way back to the elevator and disappeared.

Louis leaned back in his chair and grinned wickedly at his friends. “So, was that good for you?”

“Oh yeah,” Kat grinned like a well-fed cat. “That was incredibly good for me.”

Louis straightened in his chair and fixed Hudson with a laser stare. “What does the card say?”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get out of sharing the card, Hudson swallowed hard and opened the elegant envelope. Inside there had been an equally stylish card that simply said: Tomorrow. Nine o’clock. You know where.

“Do you know where?” Louis asked softly.

Hudson nodded. “I think so.”

“So what are you going to do?” Kat asked.

“I don’t know,” Hudson admitted. “I honestly don’t know.”

So here she was, standing in front of LexCorp Tower and wearing the best evening dress she owned. Louis had fussed with her makeup and hair until Hudson thought she would shriek with nervousness.

This was insane. A few months of pleasant email exchanges was no reason to let her guard down. She should go, before she embarrassed herself further. But she stopped even before she could turn. Standing in the dark, she could admit that she missed Lex. Missed his razor sharp wit and his laughing blue eyes. Missed the way he used to touch her and make her feel special. Missed his soothing voice when she was weighed down by the world.

If there was even a chance to mend their bridges…

No, they had both said and done things that couldn’t be forgotten or forgiven.

And yet…

And yet, he had initiated this moment.

Was Lex willing to let bygones be bygones?

Could they possibly reach an understanding?

Be something more than the joint guardians of Metropolis?

Be friends?

Perhaps lovers…again.

She closed her eyes.

No.

It was too late.

She turned, but stopped when she heard a lone flute playing in the distance. The melody was so heartbreakingly sad that tears actually sprung to her eyes. Who would be playing a metal instrument on such a cold winter’s night?

Across the square, another flute responded, sounding almost playful. The music was alien, beautiful, fast paced and sounding as if were screaming through space and time.

Hudson focused on the young woman playing the flute as she all but ran to the center of the square, then collapsed, within ten feet of the mournful male flute player, who also fell down, both of their songs suddenly silenced.

Before Hudson could move, two horn players stepped beside the female player, their music curious, then joyful.

At the same time, a large sax player stood over the collapsed male flute. His tune was angry, scared, unsure.

And suddenly, Hudson realized what she was seeing. Her life was literally being played out before her.

She watched in fascination as the horn players, now with the flute, found the saxophone and male player. The two flutes touched ever so briefly before they were whisked away from each other.

Hudson sat on a granite bench as the pipers piped their instruments. She watched as the male flute player played angry songs under the sax player tutelage and how the female player sang happy songs under the gentle watch of the horns.

She watched the two flute players move closer to each other, then smiled as the angry flute was saved by the gentle flute. His song turned to one of curiosity and quiet joy and became much gentler, but two oboes and a trumpet warned the gentle flute away from him, and Hudson had no doubt they represented Chloe, Lana and Pete.

Several scenes played out where the female flute saved the male flute and vice versa. She watched as various sax players successfully seduced the male flute away from the female, but ultimately each of their songs turned taunting and angry. She could almost feel the personality behind the saxes: Desiree, smooth and seductive; and Helen, calmer, but in a calculating way. As each sax player left the male flute, his song became sadder and more pained.

However, the female flute’s song continued to be one of hope. Tentatively at first, the male flute’s song brightened and grew more confident, then joined with the female player’s song. For several minutes their songs were joyful and teasing, loving and erotic.

But, as she knew it would, the male sax player returned. His song haunting and seductive.

The male player ignored him, but the sax would not be denied. His song danced around the male flute, pushing the female away every chance he could.

The male flute ignored the sax player, struggling to stay by the female flute’s side, but the harder he struggled, the more the horns and the oboes fluttered around the female flute player’s side, urging her to forget the male player.

The female player was hesitant. She played longing songs for the male player, even as she was pulled away from him. The sax practically laughed in delight.

The sax player and the male flute fought, their songs angry and harsh. The male player struggled toward the female every chance he got, but he found himself cut off by the harsh saxophones. Their music built to a cacophony of sound, the noise scratching the air and making Hudson flinch with their harshness. The music stopped abruptly and all the horns around the female flute player laid on the ground as did the sax players around the male flute player.

The female flute’s song was confused, then as she looked at the male player her song grew angry. The male player tried to explain, but she was having none of it. She turned and left. The male sax player’s instrument chuckled in victory as he sat up, but it’s tune soon became solicitous and seductive again. The female sax players joined in the tune.

The male flute made one more attempt to break through the horns, but was rebuffed. Isolated and alone, his melody was heartbreakingly sad. The saxes tune was enjoining, filled with promises.

With one last look toward the female player, the male player moved back toward the saxes, his tune growing angrier and angrier, especially when the female flute player met another male flute, who was, no doubt, Louis. Their song started playful, became passionate, then segued back into playful. Just as her relationship with Louis had.

Over the next few movements, the other players began to disappear, one by one. Their notes fading in the distance as the players simply walked off the stage of the courtyard, until only the two flute players remained.

The male player’s angry song stopped and he looked around in confusion, only to notice that he was no longer surrounded. He called out hesitantly to the female player, who looked up and sang back curiously. He played a haunting, beseeching, yet proud tune.

And as quietly as the music began, it ended. The players bowed their heads and took several steps backward until they turned and walked away.

Hudson wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hands.

Could reconciliation be that easy?

She looked up at the roof of the Tower, somehow instinctively knowing that’s where Lex would be.

There was so much angry music between them, yet her soul did yearn to be lulled by his melody once again.

Hesitantly, she took a step toward the Tower’s main lobby. Then another. And another.

The night watchman opened the door for her and waved one hand toward the express elevator.

She nodded her thanks.

As the elevator rose, she came up with and disregarded a thousand different opening lines, ranging from angry to cool and collected to begging for forgiveness. The doors chimed and she blinked at how fast the time had passed. She stepped off the lift and pushed her way onto the roof.

On the helicopter tarmac in the center of the roof, stood Lex, looking pale and nervous, nothing like his normally in-control self.

Hudson took a deep breath and stepped forward, closing the distance between them, still unsure of what she was going to say.

The closer she moved toward him, the more hope she saw in his eyes.

Hope.

His normally stoic lip trembled at the realization that another chance might yet be possible.

And she knew, to the bottom of her soul, how she would respond.

Never stopping her advancement, she reached up, ran her hands behind his neck and head and pulled him down for a kiss. She swallowed his surprise gasp and closed her own eyes in relief when his arms came up and gently held her. As the kiss became hungrier, so did his hold on her.

“Hudson,” he gasped. “My angel, my sweet angel.”

“Lex,” she whispered back, her voice broken with emotion. “Don’t you dare ever let me go again.”

“I won’t. I swear. I swear,” he said, all the while peppering her face with tiny kisses.

She lost all sense of time as they reacquainted themselves with each other’s bodies, learning that while time may have passed between them that they still remembered all the important things.

Lex growled, then picked her up and carried her into the elevator, pressing her against the far wall as he started to devour her once again.

As soon as the doors opened to reveal the penthouse, she superspeeded them through the rooms until they were both lying naked in his king-sized bed. “We have so much to talk about,” she said, even as she leaned down and nibbled his lips.

“We will,” he promised, running his hands up and down her torso. “I swear. Anything you want to know. Anything.”

She stopped and looked him in the eyes. “And I as well.”

“Take me, hero. My body and heart belong to you.”

She grinned wickedly down at him. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Moving together, they created their own sensual symphony, which started off slow and built to a thundering crescendo.

Hours later, wrapped in his arms, Hudson turned over and tenderly kissed his face. “So what’s tomorrow, er, today going to bring?”

Lex smiled. “The twelve drummers drumming?”

Hudson nodded and gently bit his chin.

“Well, let’s just say I’m glad tonight went off as hoped.”

“Why’s that?”

“Otherwise the drummers drumming notice of our engagement would have looked rather silly.”

Hudson’s breath caught in her throat. “Engagement?”

“You are going to make an honest man out of me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, love. I am. I most definitely am.”


	25. Christmas No No's (Jonathan, Clark)

“I really don’t think you should buy a vacuum.”

Jonathan frowned at his son. “Nonsense. Besides, how long has she been complaining that the old one is on its last legs?”

“I know. But dad, it’s Christmas.”

“Trust me, Clark. She’ll love this.”

“Can I buy her something by myself?

“Like what?”

“I was thinking about some perfume and that biography she was talking about the other day.”

Jonathan shrugged, but dug a few bills out of his billfold.

*-*-*-*-*-*

 **Christmas afternoon:**

“If you say ‘I told you so,’ I’ll ground you until spring.”

“My lips are sealed, dad. Honest.”


	26. All I Want For Christmas (Clex)

Considering the obscene amount of profit his various subsidiaries were raking in by the minute, Lex thought it was rather ironic that he should be feeling like a Grinch during the holiday season. LexCorp was achieving record profit margins and by all predictions there was no end in sight. Were his father still alive, Lionel would be giddy with delight. Yet, Lex would trade all his holiday revenues for one uninterrupted evening with Clark.

He let his eyes fall shut as he silently chastised himself. Clark no longer belonged just to him, but to all of humanity. After all, he had benefited from Clark’s powers, been rescued more times than he cared to count. He shouldn’t begrudge the desperate and besieged the right to the same sort of salvation.

But there was always someone in desperate need of rescue.

Always.

And Clark couldn’t just ignore their cries.

Nor was that Lex’s wish. But if Santa were to grant one present to a mostly-good corporate CEO, he would ask for nothing more than a few hours alone with a shy, green-eyed, tousled haired, young man.

Let the world have Superman. Lex simply wanted the man.

While Superman was a man of few words, preferring action, Lex had noted that over the years he seemed to be pulling further and further away from humanity. He had worried at first that Clark would pull away as well, but incredibly Clark became even more passionate about the human race; focusing his journalistic skills on finding the good, as if needing to believe that there was enough good in the world to counteract the evil he had to deal with as his alter-ego.

Sitting on the penthouse’s balcony, Lex slowly sipped his tea and let his gaze wander the constellations overhead. He shook his head ruefully, knowing that if Clark wasn’t in his life that he would probably be sitting at his desk, burning the midnight oil and planning some hostile corporate take over and slugging back scotch like he had when they were still young. These days, he wanted his mind clear for the precious moments he could steal away from the world, wanted to savor them as best as he could.

Waiting for Clark had grown into something of a ritual over the years. Every evening he would unwind on the balcony and pray for a quiet world evening. Most nights he ended up going to bed by himself.

Some evenings Clark would return flushed with success knowing he had made a difference. But lately, more often than not, he would come home, bowed but not broken, and try to make sense of man’s inhumanity to man or figure out the minds of the twisted as they plotted and schemed. Lex wondered if he would have been one of the myriad criminal masterminds seeking world domination if Clark hadn’t come into his life. He chuckled to himself. Lex Luthor, supervillain. It had a catchy ring.

His smile grew wider as he heard the tell-tale sound of deceleration above the tower. Moments later, the sliding glass door behind him opened and closed.

Wordlessly, Clark joined him on the patio sofa, laying his head in Lex’s lap and looking over the horizon. Lex carded his fingers through Clark’s thick hair, finally feeling the day’s tension seep from his own body as Clark relaxed into a boneless state beside him.

Lex reflected that despite his status and power, it was the simple things that made him feel like the richest man in the world.


	27. Dirt (Lois, Martha, Clark)

“I need dirt. Really juicy, embarrassing dirt.” Lois rubbed the butt of her cigarette in the ashtray and threw a pleading glance across the patio table at Martha Kent.

“What? I thought you two were friends.”

“We are. The best.”

“So--”

“Look, it’s just that when my dad visited me this summer, he told Kent about how I got caught…um…semi-naked in the high school football showers after the big state championship game. And before you say anything, I know it sounds bad, but I was after an interview, which I got and even won an award for. The point is that ever since then Kent has been throwing that incident in my face whenever he thinks I’m going too far to get a story. I just need something to counterbalance the power again, okay?”

“Well,” Martha started slowly.

Lois leaned forward, expectantly.

“Clark was a pretty good boy. I don’t know that he has anything like that in his history.”

“Anything,” Lois said, trying hard not to beg. “I’ll take anything, no matter how small.”

Martha nodded slowly and Lois knew she was flipping back through her memories to find something appropriate.

“Well, there was the one time in junior high when he woke up French.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“He had a huge crush on a girl--”

“Lana?”

“Yes. In eighth grade, she decided to take a French class. She thought the French were romantic and wanted to learn all about the language of love.”

Lois bit down on her squeal of joy, but rubbed her thigh quickly, trying to contain her excitement. “Please, tell me there’s more.”

Martha shot a nervous look toward the kitchen door, but forged ahead. “One Saturday morning, he came downstairs dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and his best pair of Sunday pants. When I asked him what the occasion was, he told me in the worst possible French accent, ‘I em trying to expand my horizons’.”

“Go on,” Lois encouraged in a strained voice, then bit her lip to keep from barking out with laughter.

“Since it was the weekend and we weren’t expecting company, I decided to let him explore his French side.”

“But--” Lois prompted when Martha fell silent.

“By Sunday I was ready to strangle him.”

“Why?”

“Because he was turning his nose up at everything. He wanted his meat in sauces and he wouldn’t eat our ‘stupid yellow cheese.’ Even though he had worked outside most of Saturday, he decided that bathing was beneath him, and decidedly un-French-like. He found an old pack of cigarettes I had stashed in the back of the pantry and took to talking with one in his hand.”

“Did he light it?”

“No. He said while he might be French, he wasn’t going to ruin his health.”

A partial giggle escaped Lois, but she viciously clamped down on it.

“He ruined my best eyeliner pencil by drawing a little moustache under his nose and a pointed goatee on his chin.”

The laugh she was trying so hard to contain finally bubbled out of her and Lois screamed with laughter, tears running down her cheeks as she pounded the table and gasped for air.

Martha covered her mouth with one hand and giggled as well, although her gaze kept sliding back to the porch door.

Lois finally got herself under control. “What…I mean…how did you get him over the phase?”

Martha shrugged, although her grin was mischievous.

“Oh no you don’t. No holding back. Come on. Tell me. Tell me.” Lois leaned both arms on the patio table and rocked forward, excitedly.

“I was having a snail problem in one of my gardens….”

Lois hooted with laughter. “You didn’t?”

“I did,” Martha said smugly. “Suddenly, being French wasn’t quite so fun anymore.”

Lois leaned further over the table and took Martha’s hand in hers. “Thank you. Thank you, Martha.”

Martha blushed. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s not fair of Clark to throw past mistakes in your face. I raised him better than that.”

Clark ambled out of the kitchen and looked over at them. “Uh-oh,” he said quietly, “I don’t think I like the looks of this.”

Lois patted Martha’s hand, then sat back in her chair and smiled like an overfed cat.

“Mom,” Clark said nervously. “Dad wants to know when dinner’s going to be.”

“Why, Kent,” Lois said, laconically. “What zee rush?”

“Mom! You promised!”


	28. Never Again (Lex)

As a bald-headed child, Lex found his life dictated by those who had more power than he did. Doctors ran a multitude of tests, despite his pleas to stop. School bullies made his life miserable, showing him how vulnerable he was to the whims of others.

When he grew older, he learned that money gave him status. People would prostitute everything they held dear to live in his world, regardless of what he looked like.

The child within him still yearned to be accepted for who he was, but the power was addictive and he vowed never be helpless again.


	29. Mainlining (Clark, Lex)

The merriment in Lex’s eyes was intoxicating and Clark vowed that his friend’s happiness would become his drug of choice. Lex believed the lighter emotions were a sign of weakness and often seemed startled when he laughed.

Clark learned that jokes made Lex groan, while acting goofy only got him eye rolls. Small creatures, such as puppies or kittens, made Lex apprehensive.

It wasn’t until they were playing video games late one afternoon that Clark realized he had been mainlining Lex’s chuckles like a coke addict. The answer had been in front of him all along – Clark was Lex’s happiness.


	30. Rising From The Ashes (Lex)

__

That which does not kill you, makes you stronger.

Lex watched the island grow smaller on the horizon as the fishing boat chugged back toward civilization. With food in his stomach and a light blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he came to the realization that Louis was a figment of his imagination. There would be time in the weeks to come to analyze Louis, but for now he had a future to contemplate.

Either his wife or his father, or perhaps both, had attempted to kill him.

Love obviously wasn’t going to save him.

He would need to save himself.


	31. Breathing (Lex)

He thinks he will always remember his first gasp of breath as he escaped the wreckage of his life and broke the surface of the unforgiving ocean. His lungs screamed with relief as he inhaled, feeling as if there wasn’t enough air on the planet to fill them. Later, he struggled to remain conscious despite the rocking of the ocean, determined to live each moment he had left.

A part of him believed he would always remember this first intake of breath as he broke through the surface of the mundane into ecstasy. He had halfway convinced himself he would never need to breathe again, but warm moist lips reminded his lungs of their duty as he was filled again and again, driving home the fact that he had a lot of moments left to live.


	32. Mantra (Lex)

Lionel Luthor frowned as he watched his eldest son rock back and forth, securely restrained within his straight-jacket in the padded room beyond the plate glass window. He cocked his head to one side, straining to hear the words being muttered.

“His lips are moving, doctor, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.”

The doctor moved silently to the wall unit and cranked up the volume; but no matter how much they concentrated, neither of them could make out the words.

“With the drug regime we have him on, I don’t believe he’s capable of coherent speech, Mr. Luthor.”

Lionel looked unsure, then nodded. “Call me if there are any changes.”

“I will.”

The doctor turned down the volume, then watched the monster walk away. Her heart broke for the young man behind the glass, but she had already sold her soul to the devil, and knew there would be no rescue for either of them.

Inside, the bald headed young man continued to rock back and forth. “My name is Alexander Joseph Luthor. I did not kill my brother Julian. Even though he ran, I know Clark Kent will rescue me. My name is Alexander Joseph Luthor. I did not kill my brother Julian. Even though he ran, I know Clark Kent will rescue me. My name is Alexander Jo....”


	33. Beginnings (Lex, Clark)

_Have you come here for forgiveness  
Have you come to raise the dead  
Have you come here to play Jesus  
To the lepers in your head_  
\- One by U2

 

"Ah, Kal-El. Have you come to arrest me?" Lex Luthor sat back in his chair and idly swirled the brandy in his sniffer.

"No."

"Really?" Lex raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me you're not hear to save me, to cleanse me of my sins."

"No."

"Then why are you here, Superman?"

The alien hesitated. "I miss my friend."

"We've never been friends."

"Maybe not, but you and Clark were."

"I'm not the same man."

"Neither am I."

"So why are you here?"

"I don't know."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know."

Lex smiled. "Well, at least that's a start."


	34. Mothers (Martha, Lillian, Pamela, Lara)

**  
MARTHA   
**

Martha discovered very quickly that Clark didn't like to be left by himself. The shy toddler followed her no matter where she went and would become fussy if he couldn't see her - not that he ever cried, but it broke her heart to see him so sad. He became her constant companion, whether she was cooking in the kitchen, hanging clothes out on the line or grocery shopping in town. He watched her with adoring green eyes and radiated a contentment which warmed her heart and filled her soul.

Being a mom was even better than she ever dared dream.

 

 **  
LILLIAN   
**

Lillian watched as her once rambunctious nine year old shuffled timidly at her doorway. There was a time when he would have barged into her room, heedless of what she was doing, demanding her time and attention.

Lionel was beside himself, always trying to bully a backbone into Lex. Lillian, however, had to admit she liked this shy boy. While he still wanted her attention, he seemed to appreciate his time with her. His brush with death made him appreciate the important things in life - and she was deeply touched when she realized that he considered her the most precious.

 

 **  
LARA   
**

She bit back a sob as she laid her infant son in the belly of the tiny ship which would whisk him from the impending destruction of their planet to the hope of new life on a world nearly a galaxy away. She would never hear him laugh or know what his first word was. She would never know the man he was to become.

While powerful within her government, all she had ever wanted was to be a mother, to be this child's mother. She never dreamed that her greatest act of love would be to let him go.

 

 **  
PAMELA   
**

She should have known that Lionel would have poisoned the boy against her. They had been so close at one time, sharing secrets and dreams of the future. While she had known she could never have children, sharing Lillian's son had filled her heart with joy and love, just as being banished from ever seeing him again had torn it asunder.

Now, in her final hours, she wish she had been braver. For Lillian. For Alexander. For herself.

The door opened and there he stood. Proud. Defiant. Hopeful. And in that instant she knew, her son loved and forgave her.

 

 **  
EVIL LILLIAN   
**

Despite being warned off, she told the pilot to land on the pad on top of the hospital, although she did concede he could wait for her off-site. Her fingernails clicked sharply with impatience against the metal walls as she rode the elevator to pediatrics.

She found her husband coming out of a room, his face haunted and pale.

"Brace yourself," was all he said as he stepped to one side.

She stopped in the doorway, shaking her head in shock. There had to be a mistake. There was no possible way this freakishly wounded child could be her son.

 

 **  
GOOD LILLIAN   
**

Trembling, she slowly made her way down the crowded corridor. Hopeful gazes sought hers then fell away when they realized she wasn't a doctor. The hall was a cacophony of noise as people searched for their loved ones, moaned in pain, or screamed in anguish when they realized their loved ones had been lost.

She found a haggard nurse and grabbed her arm. "Please, my son."

"Pediatrics is on two."

She found him, curled in the center of a web of tubes. Gently, she rubbed his bald scalp and pressed a kiss to his brow. "Don't worry, Alexander, mama's here."


	35. Benefits (Clex)

“This doesn’t change anything,” Lex said, breathing heavily.

Clark leaned his forehead against that of his nemesis’. “Yes, it does.”

“I’m exactly who I was ten minutes ago,” Lex countered, making no attempt to move.

“No, you’re braver than that man.”

“I won’t change who I am.”

“Yes, you will, and so will I.”

“What are you saying?”

Clark released a small sigh. “I don’t want to see through my father’s eyes anymore. I want to see my best friend again. I want to be the center of his world.”

Lex huffed in quiet amusement. “You’ve been the center of my world for fifteen years now.”

“But I want benefits.”

“Benefits?”

Clark nodded, then leaned in and brushed his lips over Lex’s for a second time, their second kiss even sweeter than the first.

“I think I can do benefits.”

“I’m counting on it.”


	36. At The Mall (Clex)

“You can never go wrong with diamonds.”

Clark stifled an amused sigh as he turned to watch his lover frown at the diamond display. Lover. Even after two months, it still gave him a thrill to think of Lex in those terms; and he hoped he never lost the charge that vibrated within him from the knowledge that Lex loved him. Lex, however, was not smiling, as if affronted by the very thought that people actually bought diamonds at shopping malls.

“And just how am I going to afford a diamond?” Clark asked with fond exasperation.

Lex started to open his mouth, but Clark reached forward and briefly brushed a finger over Lex’s lips. “Besides, with all the baking she does, she’d probably end up losing it in a batch of muffin batter, and that would only give dad an excuse to lecture me on spending my money on frivolous things.”

Lex rolled his eyes, but seemed relieved to know that he wouldn’t actually have to go into the jewelry store. “So do you have any ideas?”

Clark grinned brightly at him. “Not a one.”

“You just know what you don’t want.” Lex walked by his side as they made their way slowly through the mall.

Clark wondered how much the paparazzi following them would get for pictures of a Luthor in a mall. “Essentially, yes.”

“How about a puppy?” Lex stopped and looked in the store front which displayed several dozen cages. An ‘Adopt a Pet’ week banner fluttered over their heads. “Or would your father not approve of them either?”

Trying to affect a serious expression, Clark asked, “Do you see any working dogs in there?”

“Maybe a cat? You know, to hunt mice in the barn,” Lex counter, clearly pleased with his logic.

“You mean in addition to the six barn cats we already have?”

“I didn’t realize this was going to be so hard,” Lex said, frowning again. Snapping his fingers in inspiration, Lex practically crowed, “She likes flowers. Tulips specifically, as I recall.”

“She also grows her own. You know that. You’ve even ordered flowers for Victoria from her.”

“You know it’s considered gauche to bring up your lover’s ex’s.” Lex tried to look insulted, but the gleam in his eye ruined the effect.

“Lex, if I can’t talk about your exes, it’ll significantly decrease the population I can talk about.”

“Good thing you grew up sleeping on a couch in the barn, farm boy, because I foresee you sleeping on one for some time to come,” Lex said haughtily.

“You know, if you make me drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness, I’ll be on the cover of every rag in the nation by morning, but if that’s what it takes…”

Clark leaned forward ever so slightly and wasn’t surprised when Lex grabbed him by the elbow to keep him on his feet.

“You suck.” Lex was barely able to maintain his stern expression when Clark laughed at him.

“Why yes, yes I do.”

“If you keep teasing me, Kent, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” Lex warned.

Clark wiggled his eyebrows at him. Lex turned every so slightly and used the pretext of looking in another display window to gauge how far behind the photographers were lagging behind them. “You are so lucky,” he finally whispered when he realized that any retaliation was sure to be caught on film.

“Timing is everything,” Clark told him sweetly.

“Uh-huh,” Lex grumbled good-naturedly. “But seriously, any idea what to get your mom?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Chocolate?”

“She’d only whine that it was all going to her hips.”

“An appliance?”

“Maybe for Mother’s Day, but never for her birthday. Dad and I learned that the hard way when I was seven.”

“You know, I still have that truck I tried to give you.”

“Dream on, rich boy.”

“How about books?”

“And when would she have time to read?”

“How about a morning at a day spa and lunch with her son at Figaro’s?”

Clark opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

Lex looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“That could work,” Clark finally admitted.

“Ah, yes, Luthor ingenuity comes through again.”

“There isn’t going to be any living with you now, is there?”

Lex chuckled. “Probably not.” Sobering, he turned to face Clark, a look of faux outrage on his face. “I can’t believe you dragged me to a mall for something we could have done from the penthouse.”

“Oh, boohoo,” Clark grinned. “Can we get corndogs at the penthouse?”

“I am not eating a corndog, Clark.”

“Oh, come on, Lex. It’s an American pastime.”

“Do you have any idea what are in corndogs?”

“Don’t you dare tell me!”

Lex started to defy his command, when Clark finally conceded. “Fine. You can have ice cream. You can just watch me eat a corn dog.”

“Now why would I want to watch you eat…Oh.”

“Suddenly, being at the mall isn’t that bad, huh?”

“Can we get a ‘to go’ order?” Lex asked, his voice a little breathless.

Clark swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s a real good idea!”


	37. Dawn (?)

His world exploded in regret and a directionless anger before darkness fell, cocooning him in the ambiguity of an amniotic void, where neither stars nor planets raced through the universe. While he lay fetal, awaiting his rebirth, he felt an elation grow within him at having finally broken his earthly shackles, allowing him to rise above the darkness and over the world he once knew, seeing with new eyes that which had once been clouded.

When gravity finally pulled him back to earth, he awoke with a new vision, a new destiny and green eyes which would become his future.


	38. Reboot (Clark, Lex)

“Power’s out.”

Lex frowned as his hand dropped away from the light switch. “Everywhere or just here?”

“Everywhere.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something to help fix the problem?”

The voice was amused. “Probably, but since I caused it, that would rather defeat the purpose.”

Lex leaned against the closed door. “So you’ve come to finish our game?”

“No,” the voice whispered next to his ear. “I’ve come to change the rules.”

“Why now?”

“Let’s just say I finally understand that the world isn’t black and white.”

“And when the lights come back on?”

“I’ll still be here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”


	39. The Joys of Dating a Billionaire (Clex)

“God, I sound like a dweeb,” Clark said, hiding his face in his hands.

Lex patted his leg and tried very hard not to grin. “It was your first interview on a red carpet. No one was expecting you to be Hawkings. You looked fabulous in the tux though.”

“How can you say that? That tie and cummerbund look hideous.”

“Well--”

“I swear to God if you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to strangle you.”

“You were fine, Clark. Really.”

“Have I mentioned how much I hate Entertainment Tonight?”

“Let’s flip over to Access Hollywood.”

“Oh God.”


	40. Entertain Me (Clark, Lex)

"I'm bored."

"Have you finished your homework?" Lex asked, not looking up from his report.

"Yes, dad! That's why I'm bored."

"I find your lack of enthusiasm for your education quite distressing," Lex said seriously, then ruined the effect by smirking.

"Entertain me," Clark pleaded, turning on the couch and flashing Lex his best puppy eyes.

"I'm busy, Clark."

"Come on, we can watch television."

"Clark, I don't watch TV. It's a cultural wasteland filled with inappropriate metaphors and an unrealistic portrayal of life created by the liberal media elite."

"Ha! You're so busted," Clark crowed. "Babylon 5 it is!"


	41. A Fish Out of Water (Chloe, Lex, Jonathan)

** CHLOE **

Smallville Middle School.

Nowheresville was more like it. She was going to die of boredom.

She couldn't believe her dad had accepted a job at a crap factory. God, how humiliating.

They were doing okay in Metropolis. Maybe not great, but they were getting by, weren't they?

How was she ever going to learn how to become a Pulitzer prized journalist if she hung out in this quaint little hamlet?

A tall, dark headed boy with bright green eyes smiled shyly at her as he stumbled past her in the hall. Turning, she smiled. Suddenly, Smallville wasn't looking so bad.

 

 ** LEX **

Ubergeeky, bald, rich, orphan freak.

Just how many different ways could he be set apart from his classmates? Maybe he should start trying to collect the labels. Go for the Guinness world record or something. Wouldn't his father be proud then?

They were supposed to be getting a new kid in class today. He'd been watching with some amusement as his classmates jockeyed to get a line of information on the newest inmate at the boarding school. Lex didn't care. He would be just one more person Lex would have to avoid.

"Class, I'd like you to welcome Bruce Wayne."

 

 ** JONATHAN **

He missed Smallville. He understood his father's reasons for wanting him to take the finance course. After all, he would essentially be running a business once he took over the day-to-day operations of the farm. But he felt like such a hick in Metropolis. It appeared he wasn't the only one who thought so either. Earlier, he had heard several girls titter behind his back. Apparently, flannel was considered 'so yesterday' as far as fashion trends were concerned.

He longed for just one friendly face.

"Excuse me, I've seen you in my finance class. Could I possibly borrow your notes?"


	42. First Day Back to School (Clark, Lex, Lana)

**_FIRST DAY BACK_ **

“Please don’t make me go inside,” Lex begged, pressing his lithe frame further back into the limo’s seat. “I was doing well with the tutor, wasn’t I?”

Lillian closed her eyes briefly. “You did excellently with your home studies, Alexander. In fact, you’re being skipped two grades.”

“Which will make me not only a freak, but a geek as well.”

“Your father,” Lillian cleared her throat and tried again. “You can’t keep hiding from the world, Alex. You’ve got to learn how to…cope with your differences.”

“Fine,” he snapped, the Luthor spirit finally kicking in. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

 **_BEGINNINGS_ **

"Mrs. Kent."

"Yes, Ms. Dale." Martha turned to face Clark's kindergarten teacher.

"I just wanted to let you know that I think you're going to see a marked change in Clark's sociability within the next few weeks."

Martha blinked, stunned. "I'm sorry, are you talking about my son, Clark? The painfully shy little boy?"

Ms. Dale smiled brilliantly. "One in the same."

"And just how do you hope to accomplish this miracle?"

"Watch." She turned and shouted toward the playground. "Clark, please come here."

Moments later Clark was standing before them, along with another little boy.

"Hi, my name's Pete."

 

 **_LECTURE_ **

"Are we boring you, Mr. Luthor?" Professor Langley asked in a condescending tone.

"Yes, actually you are," came the glib reply.

"So, you think you can do better?"

"I know I can," the bald boy challenged, lounging insolently in his seat.

"Oh, really now?"

"Yes, really. As everyone in *this* class knows, but which you seemed to have forgotten, probably due to your liquid lunch, is that the deposition on the crystal's surface is affected by concentration, impurities on the surface of the crystal and whether or not the crystal is pH-dependent."

 _God,_ Lanley thought, _I really hated that kid._

 

 **_FIRST DAY OF COLLEGE_ **

The small group sat on the fountain wall at the center of campus and observed the hustle and bustle around them.

College women, Pete reflected gleefully. _And better yet, no meteor mutants who'd rather eat you than date you._

Chloe was almost orgasmic. Journalism was going to be so cool. Every student had a story and she was going to do her best to listen to them all.

 _This is my time to shine, to start over,_ Lana thought. _No more Miss Helpless. No more fragile Lana._

Clark could barely contain his smile. Ready or not, Lex, here I come.


	43. Not All Kisses Are The Same (Clex)

Clark gently cupped his friend's head as he bestowed the kiss of forgetfulness, knowing that Lex was so close to following Lionel's footsteps that the only way to guarantee his own safety was to wipe his secrets from Lex's memory. "Goodbye, Lex."

The kiss was a tender one, giving voice to all he had left unsaid over the years.

Lex's eyes were closed when Clark stepped back and waited for consciousness to return so he could assume the role of nodding acquaintance.

A content smile graced Lex's face as he opened his eyes and closed the distance between them, giving Clark a gentle kiss. "I had all but given up hope."

"Lex?"

"Say the word and I walk away from it all."

Clark's eyes widened, never so happy to encounter a meteor mutation. "I love you."

Lex wrapped himself around Clark. "Fly somewhere warm."


	44. Transgressions (Lex, Lionel - Word of the Day Drabble)

"Where in the hell have you been?" Lionel fulminated as his son was escorted into his office.

"I'm sorry, father, but I had to find this." Lex proffered a tiny mechanical monkey in his trembling hand.

"Half the city is mobilized because you had to buy a bibelot?"

"Mother said they used to make her laugh as a child. I just wanted..."

Lionel's anger banked instantly. "I see," he said in a calmer tone. "Why don't you go show it to her?"

Lex nodded and backed slowly from the room.

Lionel sighed. Just this once he'd overlook the boy's transgression.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 **fulminate** \FUL-muh-nayt\  
 _1\. To issue or utter verbal attacks or censures authoritatively or menacingly.  
2\. To explode; to detonate._

 **bibelot** \BEE-buh-loh\  
 _A small decorative object without practical utility; a trinket._


	45. Here...Now (Clex)

“Hey, are you ready?” Lex asked as he jogged up the last flight of stairs to the loft.

Clark dropped his gaze and shook his head. “Dad won’t let me go.” Then blowing out a large puff of frustrated air, Clark ran both hands back through his hair. “Screw it, let’s go.”

He was surprised to find himself stopped by Lex’s hand on his chest.

“No, Clark. I won’t condone you defying your father.”

“But he treats me like a child.”

“I know it’s hard for a parent who cares to let go, but he will, Clark. Eventually. You just have to be patient.”

“But…we were going to dance.”

Lex moved toward Clark’s desk and turned on the radio, tuning it to a soft jazz station. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, then held his hand out toward Clark.

“So we’ll dance. Here.”


	46. Apologies (Jonathan)

Even though he pulled the keys from the ignition, he couldn’t quite bring himself to get out of the vehicle. There had been so many angry words spoken that day, and not just by him; but if he was honest with himself he could admit that the escalation had been his fault. It would be his luck that Smallville’s Women’s Auxiliary just happened to be having its monthly meeting in the Talon.

Knowing he couldn’t put the inevitable off any longer, he got out of the vehicle and pocketed his keys, intent on damage control. He slowly made his way through the coffee sipping crowd of the Talon and stopped in front of the table tucked into the corner and waited until a surprised blue gaze lifted to meet his.

“Lex,” Jonathan said quietly, “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the other day.”


	47. Dancing (Clex)

Clark allowed the stirring spring breeze to push him forward, smiling as the leaves of the trees tickled his bare feet. His body glided through the orchard, rising and falling to the quiet melodies of Ravel’s Pavane Pour Une Infante Defunte. The moonless sky comforted his troubled soul and he allowed himself to set aside the questions of destinies and desires, for in this moment nothing existed except for the music and the night.

Opening his eyes when he finally alight, he discover he wasn’t as alone as he had hoped.

He remained silent as he watched his future play out in the blue eyes before him. When, at last, the gaze cleared of all unspoken questions and exclamations, he held out his hand in invitation, silently inquiring as to his fate.

A tender smile, a gentle squeeze on his fingers told him all he needed to know. He moved forward and enbraced his heart, realizing that while one dance had ended, another was just beginning. He lifted them off the ground in a slow waltz, smiling as dark eyes laughed in joy and wonder. He knew Lex would have a million questions, but for now they would simply dance.


	48. The Wake (Lex)

While he was no Ashkenazy, his fingers danced elegantly enough over the keys for the mourners to recognize the haunting melodies of Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto #2 -- her favorite. He knew he would soon be expected to mingle amongst his father’s business associates and allow them the opportunity to ply him with meaningless platitudes -- as if they understood what her loss meant to him.

Lionel appeared by his side as the last notes floated into the ether. “Quit hiding behind the piano, Lex. Sentimentality is tantamount to vulnerability. You have a destiny. I suggest you stand up and face it.”


	49. Hunted (Clex)

“Are they still out there?” Lex asked, as Clark pressed tightly behind him.

He felt Clark nod.

The heat in the closet was making him weak and he found himself leaning against Clark for support.

Clark’s mouth hovered toward his neck and Lex expected to hear him whisper about the status of their hunters, instead Clark’s tongue licked the sweat from his neck, causing Lex to moan. Clark’s hands pulled at his shirt and Lex found himself arching back into his strong frame.

If they were going to die, he reasoned, he might as well satisfy this one last longing.


	50. Gotta Love the X (Lex)

The accident on the bridge, while taking the use of my legs, helped me clarify certain issues, such as what to do with my growing mental powers. Clark tells me that most people would seek vengeance on the one who had crippled them. He still doesn’t understand. He gave me my freedom.

Lionel couldn’t deal with a crippled son. As I had gone to great lengths to hide my growing mental powers from him after the meteor storm, he never knew what he had thrown away until it was too late.

Alexander Luthor was now Professor X of the X-Men.


End file.
